After a moment, he dropped his hands and unfastened her jeans, kneeling to pull off her boots before he began to work the pants down her legs, stopping to stroke and explore the tender skin as he went. She nearly screamed when his tongue found the backs of her knees. He moved higher, kissing a path up her thighs and finally nipping at the edge of her practical cotton panties. He pressed a kiss to her there, his breath searing her through the cloth, and she arched upward. No one had ever done that to her before; she was totally unprepared for the heavy surge of sensation that quickly followed as he flicked his tongue against her. Her hips lifted, pressing her harder against his mouth, and she whimpered.
He came to his feet then, looming over her slighter frame, pulling her to him and kissing her deeply while he pushed her opened shirt off her shoulders and down her arms to the floor. One hand stroked her body: her breasts, her waist, her hips, down her buttocks and up the gentle crease between, sliding around to part her legs gently and slipping his hand between them. He cupped her, using his thumb to play her senses, and she couldn’t believe he hadn’t even removed her panties yet.
As if he could read her mind, he stepped back a pace and his hands moved to the fragile barrier, whisking them down her legs and tossing them aside. He stood stock-still for a moment, taking in every inch of her pale flesh. Then he slowly slid his palm down her belly, moving steadily until he’d tangled the fingers of one hand in the dark red curls at the junction of her legs, and his breath grew short.
Suddenly he was fumbling with his belt, ripping at his pants and shoving them out of the way. She gulped in one shocked breath of air as the full power of his proud male shaft reared against his belly. It had been a long time, but she knew her husband had never been so…well-proportioned. A tiny stab of doubt shot through her, and she raised her gaze to his.
“I’m not sure this is going to work,” she said, hearing the tremor in her voice.
Cal smiled down at her, his eyes blazing with the heat of his need. “I am,” he said in a deep growl. He took her by the hips and tugged her against him, letting her feel his strong, eager flesh against her while he sought her mouth yet again, and despite her newfound worry, the spark of desire that he so easily lit within her raced through her until she was consumed by it once again. She rocked herself back and forth against him, loving the hard silky heat of him trapped between their bodies, rubbing over him while his tongue showed her what he wanted and his fingers stroked her breasts in rhythm with the movements of their hips.
He slipped a hand across her hip and inward, moving her thigh wider. Then she felt his fingers probing, seeking, testing her most private parts, and she could feel the humid moisture rising to his touch. He began to rub a light circular pattern and she gasped, her legs shaking a little, her fingers blindly flexing in the mat of dark hair covering his chest, and he made a hoarse sound against her mouth.
“Now,” he growled.
He lifted her with his hands at her waist until he snuggled between her thighs and she felt the slick, hot tip of him pushing at her. She wriggled herself against him, helping him enter her and then, as he slowly flexed his hips, she buried her face against his shoulder to muffle the sound of her cries. He filled her and filled her until she was sure he couldn’t fill her any more, and then he let go of her waist, clasping her buttocks in his big hands and tilting her hips a fraction, and she realized with a start that he could fill her more.
“That’s it, baby. Take me. All of me.” Cal’s voice was unrecognizable, deep and strained as he propped himself against the edge of the dryer and braced his legs and she automatically twined her limbs around his. She had a moment’s incredulous reaction as she recalled that they were in the mudroom and then she couldn’t think at all. She slid her hands over taut, hard muscle and clutched his shoulders. His hands clasped her bottom and he held her to him, his mouth taking hers as he began to thrust his hips in an age-old rhythm. She felt every tiny motion, from the rough rub of his hair against her to the glide and drag of his hot flesh moving in and out of her, and a rushing, heady excitement flowered within her. His hips hammered at her, pounding an ever-increasing drum-roll, and each time their hips met, the fresh shock of the connection shoved her higher and higher. Cal tore his mouth from hers, throwing his head back, his teeth bared in a grimace as he gave himself to the moment. His breathing was hoarse and wild, his chest heaving like a bellows.
She was gasping for air, too, and their bodies were slick and hot with the sweat of their exertions. Her body drew taut as she spiraled wildly toward the peak, and suddenly she was there, her body heaving and shaking as her womb fisted and her muscles repeatedly spasmed. Cal made an animal sound deep in his throat and his hands became a vise, holding her writhing body in place as he went rigid, his hips pumping while he poured himself into her. She could feel the hot essence of him against her inner walls as she began to calm, and slowly his frantic finish ended, leaving him slumped against the dryer with her curled bonelessly on his chest, arms looped around his neck.
Finally his hands dropped from her hips and dangled at his sides. “Good God,” he muttered. “Did we survive?”
For some reason that struck her funny. She began to giggle helplessly, laughing harder as he took her shoulders and drew her back so that he could look quizzically into her face. Then he shifted, straightening, and she stopped laughing abruptly. Within her, he was as full and ready as if the past minutes had never happened. He put his hands beneath her bottom, then stood for a moment, looking around. “Ah, hell.”
“What’s wrong?” His sudden bad humor drained the pleasure she’d been feeling.
He looked at her wryly, then shook his head, and she relaxed as she realized he was chuckling. “I was going to walk right through the house to my bedroom with you just like this.”
“Um.” She smiled and ducked her head, ridiculously feeling shy. “Sounds good to me.”
“I can’t,” he said. “My pants are around my ankles but I can’t kick them off because I’m still wearing my boots.”
She looked down, another bubble of laughter rising as she saw his predicament. Then he lifted her off him regretfully, yanking up the offending garments while she gathered scattered clothing. He put a hand on her arm and she turned to him, but he didn’t speak, only lifted her into his arms and carried her through the house and upstairs to the huge bed in his room, where he stripped back the covers and gently lay her down. He took the clothes from her and tossed them carelessly on the floor, then sat on the bed to remove his boots before finally taking off his jeans.
Lyn lay quietly the whole time, watching the play of hard-packed muscle in his back, the bunch of powerful arms and the rock-hard power of his thighs. He couldn’t hide the fact that he wanted her again, and she wordlessly held out her arms when he turned toward her, inviting him into her embrace. Offering him her love though she couldn’t tell him so.
This time, his lovemaking was less frantic. He stroked and explored and caressed every inch of her, then lay back and let her do the same, clenching handfuls of the sheet in his big fists when her hands came to the thatch of dark hair cushioning him, groaning and arching his hips helplessly when she finally stroked his taut, silky flesh with a tentative hand. He rolled over onto her, pressing her into the mattress with his big body and entering her, then lingered over their union, rocking the bed with smooth, strong strokes that never increased in pace but lit the now-familiar fire within her all the same. When she convulsed in his arms, it triggered his release, and he stiffened against her until his body finally relaxed and he lay over her, chest heaving.
“Am I too heavy?” His voice was muffled in the pillow just above her head.
“No.” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around him to hold him in place. Her breastbone ached a little where the bruise was developing, but she didn’t remind him. She never wanted this moment to end. He was still snugly nestled within her and they’d been as intimate as two people could be. She’d never been happier in her
life.
Finally, he lifted his head. He grunted as he slid away from her, but he only reached down to drag the covers over them, then gathered her into his arms and lay back with her cuddled against his side. Her head was pillowed on his arm and her cheek pressed against his chest.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t really know what to say, and she was afraid words would spoil the magic in the moment.
Finally, he sighed and spoke. “I was pretty damn mad at Marty this morning when he horned in on our lunch date.”
She smiled, smoothing a hand over the ridged muscles of his abdomen. “I don’t care for Marty except as a friend.”
He was silent.
She considered her last words, then wondered if they had been too much of a declaration. After all, he hadn’t said anything about emotion. For him, this was a physical thing.
“I mean,” she said awkwardly, trying to minimize the damage, “you’re the one who’s been so kind to me. I can never repay you for the way you’ve helped me get my life back together. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time that I’d do anything…” She stopped when Cal’s muscles grew taut and hard as iron beneath her. This wasn’t coming out quite the way she’d intended.
Suddenly, he pulled away from her, sitting up in the bed and staring at her. His brows were a straight dark line. “Are you telling me,” he said in an ominously quiet, even tone, “that you slept with me just now because you think you owe me?”
“It wasn’t like that.” But her voice lacked conviction as guilt struck her. Hadn’t she been thinking of doing exactly that?
“No?” His voice sounded furious, and a shiver of foreboding ran down her spine.
She sat up, too, drawing the sheet to her breasts. “Cal, I—”
“You just told me you’ve been expecting this all along. Every time I touched you, every damned time I kissed you, you were thinking, ‘Gee, I guess it’s payback time.”’ He threw back the sheets and stood, crossing to the window and leaning his hands heavily on the sill. “I don’t know what I thought was happening here, Lyn, but it sure as hell wasn’t gratitude!” The words grew to a shout and despite herself, she shrank back. Logically, she knew Cal would never hurt her, but she’d been shouted at before and it was hard to change old patterns, old reactions. “Consider your debt paid in full,” he said. “A couple rounds of sex in exchange for a little human kindness.”
“I—”
“Put your clothes on and get out of here,” he said, his voice as rough and angry as she’d ever heard it. His breathing was harsh and loud in the silence; his fists were clenched at his sides.
She sat frozen in place, trying to figure out what to do, how to salvage the wreckage of what had been the most beautiful day of her entire life.
“Get out!”
She jumped, practically leaping out of the bed and grabbing her clothing, running from the room without stopping to dress. She rushed down the hallway to her own room, racing in and slamming the door. The clothing slipped from her hands as she stood in the middle of the room. Her nakedness felt wrong now, and she hurriedly threw on the bulky flannel robe Cal’s sister had given her.
Cal’s sister…Cal. How could this have turned out so badly? Tears stung her eyes. She was stupid. She should have known better. What man would want to be told he’d gotten sex as a thank-you gift? She had no idea what Cal was thinking, but that certainly had pushed every button he had. She’d offended the only man in the world who meant anything to her, and at the thought that he might ask her to leave, she broke down completely.
She threw herself across her bed and sobbed until her voice was hoarse and her eyes felt so swollen she could barely see. She must have fallen into an exhausted stupor after that because when she raised her head it was almost full dark. She glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was a full hour after the normal suppertime, and she rolled to her feet slowly, dragging herself downstairs to see if Cal was hungry. And if she still had a job.
He wasn’t in the office or the living room or the kitchen, but there was a note on the counter in his distinctive block lettering. Eating at the city bar. Will need a lunch packed tomorrow. C.
She picked the note up and turned it over as if she expected it to say more. But the back was blank. He hadn’t told her to pack her things, only his lunch. He hadn’t fired her. Yet, she reminded herself.
She picked at a bite of chicken and had a bowl of applesauce, then fed the animals and checked on the black gelding, who appeared to be settling in well. He came right to her, nuzzling his soft, velvety nose against her cheek and blowing out softly in contentment when she produced a carrot. After that, she trudged into the house and up the stairs to her room, where she got ready for bed. Tears stung her eyes again as she thought of the way Cal had misinterpreted her lovemaking, and she fell into a deep, dull sleep.
She woke in the middle of the night, disoriented. Had she heard something? She sat up and looked toward the window, knowing there was still fire danger from the dry year they were having.
Then a large shadow moved in the doorway. “Hey, there.”
Her heart banged painfully against her ribs. “Hi.”
Cal cleared his throat. “I, uh, I’m sorry for shouting at you earlier.”
The words vibrated through her, breaking up her depression, and she smiled in the dark. “It’s all right. I didn’t mean—”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He crossed the room and lifted the covers, sliding into bed beside her, and she realized with a shock that he was naked. His hard, warm body slid against hers and he gathered her gently into his arms as if she were breakable. “Do you want me?” It was a rough, deep whisper.
She turned her face into the hollow of his throat, her arms encircling his neck and gripping fiercely. “Yes,” she said against his skin. His flesh was warm beneath her mouth, roughened by hair, and she dragged her open mouth across his collarbone. “Yes,” she said again.
His arms slid beneath her and he turned her onto her back, moving with her so that his whole length was sprawled over her. One hairy leg pushed between hers, opening her thighs wide, and he settled himself between them. He was heavily aroused, pressing snugly against her belly, and she felt him pulsing with need.
He propped himself above her on his elbows and used his thumbs to wipe away her tears. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
Her lips trembled as she smiled up at him. “It’s all right.”
He shook his head, framing her face with his fingers. “No. None of this is all right. But I can’t stay away from you anymore.”
“I don’t want you to stay away.” She almost blurted it out then. I love you. But she caught the words back. Cal didn’t want her love, just her passion. Instead, she slipped her palms down his back to the crease of his buttocks, slowly slipping her fingers along the groove to the joint where his legs met.
“I can’t wait,” he warned her. His teeth nipped her shoulder as he drew back and she felt his hand sliding over her breasts, her belly, the slight rise of her pubis, and then a strong finger found the pleated folds between her legs. He probed and pressed until she yielded and then he drew away, guiding himself into position while he supported himself above her on one muscled arm.
Her breath caught painfully in her chest as she felt him, blunt, hot, hard, poised, pushing through her, into her, filling her so completely that she grasped his shoulders in sudden shock. “Stop! It’s too much.”
He chuckled, part laughter and part frustration. “You know better than that.” His hand came up, smoothing intimately over her soft belly and on up, cupping one breast in his callused hand. His thumb rasped over her nipple again and again, calling forth waves of shivering, pulsing sensation that tore through her in bursts of ever-increasing power. She gasped, her hips lifting, and the small movement shoved him even deeper within her.
And the floodgates burst. He began to move, his hands and mouth all over her, his hips flexing as he drove deep within her in great re
peated strokes of power. His urgency swept her into the maelstrom and she began to move with him, urging him on with her hands and her body and hoarse exclamations of delight as the tension grew and stretched to an unbearable pitch. Her body was so sensitive that every motion was a sensual delight, every stroke and touch lighting small fires of passionate response within her. Above her, Cal gave a deep, incoherent cry and began to move in a forceful frenzied rhythm, his hips slamming into her with a raw power that quickly drove her to a wracking, shattering finish. But he didn’t stop and her ecstasy went on and on, almost too much to bear, until he suddenly froze, his whole big body shuddering in her arms.
When the last tremors of reaction had faded and they lay silently, still joined in the darkness, Cal finally stirred. He rose from the bed and lifted her into his arms before she could even wonder what he was doing, then carried her into his room to the much larger bed.
“I can’t sleep in there,” he said in a husky voice, “So you’ll sleep here from now on.”
And with that settled, he flipped onto his back, drew her into his side as she’d been earlier in the day, and fell asleep.
She slept too, but she dreamed.
Someone was walking through the house. Hidden in the closet, she tried desperately to regulate her gasping breaths. A horrible thought occurred. She was bleeding from where he’d cut her. Had she left a trail to her hiding place?
But the feet walked past the closet and into the kitchen. Vivid curses, then a muffled thud and a groan.
“Where’s my money, Galloway?”
Her ex-husband coughed. “I’m trying to get it together, I swear. I just need a few days—”
“That’s what you said the last time.”
“No, wait! I can get it. Just give me—”
A sullen thunk silenced the words. She’d never heard a silencer before but she knew, somehow, that she’d just heard the sound of a silenced bullet ending a life. Terror almost choked her.
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